Dragon Breath
by Dark Crest-Mercenary for Hire
Summary: When Yassen awakes, he knows he needs to find Alex. When the two do meet up, Alex is chasing a madman with BWs, and Yassen won't be able to keep up with him without joining in with the mission. Looks like Yassen is going to be going on a mission of his own!


**I DO NOT OWN THE ALEX RIDER SERIES, AND I CLAIM NO MONETARY GAIN FROM THIS STORY.**

**This entire story, with few exceptions, will be focused on Yassen in 3P.**

Pain.

That's what he woke up to, along with, when he opened his eyes, a blood-red haze that soon faded to reveal bursts of light that were no better. Mercifully, his vision faded to black and he passed out.

When he woke up, his sight was blurred, but soon sharpened. They had obviously either thought he was dead, or thought to take care of Sabina and Alex before him and Henryk.

Speaking of Henryk, where was he?

Yassen attempted standing but he became dizzy and unbalanced quickly and flopped down to the floor. He groaned as his injuries flared again, causing his side to burn with pain.

He heard a splash as he sat down. That was strange.

Yassen looked down, and saw himself lying in a pool of his own blood.

Now, Yassen was no stranger to blood. Contract killers could never be afraid to dash at their target with a carefully concealed butterfly knife, prepared to slit the target's throat, if they miss a shot with a standard M-200 Intervention. Which they never should if they wanted to avoid an early death of twenty-five.

However, Yassen was a stranger to sitting in large pools of his own blood. The most damage he'd ever gotten was the one time he'd gotten into some trouble with the triads in a gang war, and all that had happened is that he had gotten shot seven times in the arm. Nothing much.

As memory came flooding back to Yassen, he wondered how he was still alive. He doubted he was dead, unless this was Hell.

Yassen poked a long finger an inch deep in the hole on his chest and instantly wrenched it back out. He knew exactly why they thought he was dead.

His finger was covered in gall. Hot, sticky, acidic gall was burning at his finger. Apparently, "Sir" Damian Cray had hit his gallbladder.

Yassen smiled slightly, convenient as his thin lips were already locked into a bit of a grimace. Cray had always preferred weapons Cray had thought as "One shot kills," such as the overpowered Colt M1911 pistol. Personally, Yassen always had preferred the FN Five-SeveN, less powerful but with quicker shots.

He groped for his beloved Five-SeveN, knowing he had dropped it near him. He eventually found it wedged between a fallen lamp and a leg of a sofa.

Yassen would rather die than live in this body. He was no expert on anatomy, but a he assumed a leaky gallbladder would make his body burn with undiluted acid.

He brought the handgun to his cranium and pulled the trigger_._

_click_

Yassen sighed as he remembered a previous memory of Hunter teaching him about various handguns. They had went down to the SCORPIA firing range so Yassen could pick a favorite gun. Hunter was there, backing him up. He'd give him advice in the way a father will help his son choose cleats for soccer.

_"Twenty shots, you're out." _Hunter had said. He'd used most of that on the crew members, and maybe Cray had used his gun. At that thought, he rubbed the gun's grip on his long pants. His shirt was shot up and in tatters and he'd immediately ripped it off. It wasn't even whole enough to serve as a bandage.

If Henryk was dead, and they had left his body, Yassen knew he'd have to use Henryk's shirt to staunch the blood and gall flow. He heaved himself into a four-legged position and took to crawling, with much pain, to the front cabin.

Henryk's head was on an odd angle, and so were both arms. One of his legs had been caught on the pedals, and looked dislocated. Thankfully, his shirt was fully intact. Yassen pulled that off him and wrapped it around his midsection.

Now feeling more comfortable, Yassen collapsed against one of the mahogany-paneled walls of the cabin. He waited five minutes, then began to slowly inch out towards the exit of the plane. He needed to get out before the authorities found him. He needed to find Alex.

**Okay guys, hope that was good.**


End file.
